Drowned World
by Indigo X
Summary: Warning: this story contains charachter background reinventing! Why do we love the things that will only serve to destroy us? The general angsty musings of RVD, everybody's favorite zen surfer-boy possible stoner WWE superstar... PG to be safe.


Drowned World  
a RVD soliloquy by  
Indigo X  
  
As I'm lying here on the warm, damp sand, splashed by cool saltwater and the red-yellow-orange of the sunset, I think about my middle name. Not many people do, I guess... think about their middle names, that is... but my middle name was my father's name also. And it means something. Something special to me, something that's given me a lot of joy in my life, as well as some of the worst pain I've ever known.   
  
My middle name... my father's name... is Kai. It means 'ocean'.   
  
Not many people get it, the thing between the ocean and I. Some try, some come awfully close, but nobody's completely understood it. 'Rob,' they ask me, or want to ask me, 'your father drowned in the ocean, and you were there to see it happen. Then, just half a year ago, your grandfather drowned as well. Shouldn't you hate or fear the ocean after all that?'   
  
No, I tell them, that's not true. I didn't understand when I was young why the ocean had to claim my father's life, and I didn't understand when I was older why it had to claim my grandfather as well... but I could never hate the ocean for it. In fact, I love it all the more, for I can feel the spirits of my father and my father's father in the waves as I surf. I laugh when the waves toss me playfully to shore, like Dad and Cornelius used to play-wrestle with me when I was a kid. The little breakers smack against my flesh like Neptune's daughter's kisses, and the laughter of my father and grandfather echo on the breaking of all the waves. I can feel their embrace as I'm surrounded by a blue curl. It's as if they've become a part of something bigger, more powerful. Something all-encompassing.   
  
Maybe the ocean is just a branch extension of Heaven, where the souls of the drowned go. Sea and sky. Two things bigger than the little bit of soil we live on, much bigger than a person. Sea and sky. Heaven and drowned earth. One and the same.  
  
Tide's coming in now, and I find myself slowly being submerged, lying in an ever-deepening shallow of saltwater. The ocean claims the land. The moon pulls it.   
  
I know I wasn't meant to live long. The sea will take me before I get too old, the same way it took my father and grandfather. I don't think it will happen soon, but I do know it'll happen one day. And still, I do not fear the ocean, but rather love it as an Earth mother. Mother ocean, source of life and taker of life. Part of me as I am part of it- that's one of the first things that my father taught me. I learned to walk, then I learned to surf, and as I learned to surf I learned to love and respect the ocean.  
  
Maybe I'll have a son before I die. I'll teach him to walk, and surf, and to love the ocean. I'll tell him of the spirits in the water, of the taste of salt. I won't tell him of the little family curse, though... to blindly love the very thing that will cause his early death, the entity that claimed the lives of three generations of Van Dam surfers before him... like me and my father and his father before him, he'll have to figure out the sad truth himself...  
  
Water's lapping at my temples, and I'll bet my hair's floating around in the shallow tide pool like gold seaweed. I'm staring straight up at the moon, and it's making me so dizzy... the moon always seems so bright at the seaside... so dizzy I can't move right now, so dizzy I can't even blink. It's just ... so beautiful, silver on the water.  
  
Maybe I'll never be understood all the way. Maybe no one is, ever. I don't make it easy for people, after all... to the perception of most people, I feel no pain, I cry no tears, I dodge all bullets, and I rise unscathed from any and all disasters like some sort of glory-filled phoenix. I sometimes feel like I'm going to suffocate in my own optimism... like I'm drowning in some black ocean of false happiness, an ocean of my own design. Good old happy sunshine Ar-Vee-Dee, being crushed like a cheap submarine by a deep and secret depression. How 'bout that? It's why I'm so drawn to the ocean. It's not just that I'm a surf junkie... it's simply that I only feel whole when waves are crashing against me, when fizzy-capped breakers are washing over me like my father's lost embrace. When the big waves toss me up like Cornelius' strong, brown, salt-scented arms. When the spirits and tears and memories and surges and the little sandy-blonde speck that is myself and my surfboard are all mingled and thrown so you don't know what's who and where's real anymore...  
  
...I'll just lie here for a while. Yeah. My tears're just two new drops in the sea... and Dad's never held it against me when I've cried on his shoulder. I'll just close my eyes...   
  
If I doze off, someone'll find me and wake me up... or the tide'll surge and I'll just become a part of my blue Heaven, and break on the waves with my family forever. 


End file.
